Selling Watermelons in Uncle Jiu’s World

In an age when zombies roam everywhere, I, Wang Xigua, somehow managed to get my stall up and running.

Uncle Jiu frowned at the talismans painted in cinnabar on my watermelons. “Those can ward off evil?” Before he could finish speaking, a leaping corpse attacked. I swung my ancestral watermelon knife, its blade flashing coldly

But beneath the blade was no zombie, just a bright red watermelon, which I split open with a mighty chop, sending juice spraying everywhere like rain.

The leaping corpse stepped on the slippery melon rinds scattered across the ground and crashed to the floor.

Uncle Jiu gaped in amazement. I leisurely pulled out a watermelon guaranteed to be ripe and sweet. “Don't go yet, fellow cultivator. Want a taste? A physical exorcism, the light of righteousness!”